Fish, Fortune and First Meetings
by Scribbler
Summary: Set before either film. Meg is given the job of recruiting a dashing sailor to help Hades. The sailor, however, has other ideas. Mild Meg/Sinbad.


**Disclaimer****:** Fishily not mine.

**A/N****:** This came about chiefly because of the video 'Mr. Brightside' by DisneyHeroesStudios on YouTube (search for it or PM me for the link, as it's well worth a look). The vid features dozens of cracky animated movie crossover couples, one of which was _Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas/Hercules_ – specifically Sinbad/Megara. There were others that also begged to be written, but this one caught me first and was surprisingly easy to put together, since the writers of _Legend of the Seven Seas _moved the story from Arabia to Greece _anyway_. Very culturally sensitive, I'm sure. Still, it makes weird shit like this easier for me to write.

Set before either film takes place. One shot. Reviews appreciated.

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><p><em><strong>Fish, Fortune and First Meetings<strong>_

© Scribbler, July 2011.

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><p><em>Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.<em> - Anais Nin (novelist and short story writer, 1903-1977)

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><p>Meg picked up a handful of stones and jiggled them. It was a repetitive motion born out of boredom. Not that she wanted to get to whatever job Hades had planned for her today, but sitting on a rock watching flotsam float down the river? She was totally over that. Over it five minutes ago, even. She threw the stones with a savage movement. They plipped harmlessly into the water. After a moment even the ripples were gone.<p>

She sighed and propped her chin on her fist. How had her life been reduced to this? Sitting on her tush, waiting for Hades to get his act together and send today's orders, which she didn't want to follow anyway, since they would probably be loathsome and leave a bad taste in her mouth – rather like the God of Death himself. She hoped he wouldn't come in person. His flaming scalp was not only disturbing, it reeked of sulphur and always left her clothes stinking.

"C'mon, already," she muttered, picking up another handful of stones. "I'm not getting any younger."

A scroll popped into existence three inches from her nose. She managed not to flinch or look surprised. Her 'don't give a rat's ass' expression was almost perfect these days, which was depressing in a whole bunch of ways she didn't want to think about. She reached with her free hand and plucked the scroll out of the air. She unfurled it, eyes scanned the spidery writing. Her lip curled.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."

As if in response, reality split at the seams where the scroll had been. The gaping wound showed images of a distant place. Scents of fish and salt leaked out, along with sounds of waves crashing and men shouting. Before Meg could get off her rock, a severed fish head flew out and landed in the river shallows

"Nice." The head floated to the surface and seeped blood in a cloud around itself. Meg rose and wished for the millionth time she hadn't made that literal deal with the devil. "I hate fish."

She stepped through the portal and into the shadows of an alley in what seemed to be some sort of market. The powerful smell of salt was even stronger here. The portal sealed behind her, but not before dumping a dark grey cloak on the ground. Hades's idea of a disguise, no doubt.

Meg picked it up gingerly and held it out. The clasp was shaped like a flaming skull. Subtle – not. "You couldn't at least make it pink?" she muttered, putting it on. It stank of sulphur. Today was a real plethora of foul stinks.

Still muttering, she went in search of her target.

….

"Spike!"

The dog didn't even slow down.

"Spike, you rotten –" Sinbad didn't finish the insult. He couldn't. Finishing the insult required breath, and he was in short supply of that right now. He pounded across the harbour, all the time cursing whatever god or goddess had created dogs. More specifically, he cursed dogs' appetites and their boundless optimism that anything which hit the floor was automatically theirs by default.

The pendant currently wrapped around Spike's teeth wasn't pretty, but it _was_ powerful. That is, if legends – and the dealer Sinbad had bartered it from – were to be believed. It wasn't quite in the 'infinite cosmic power' range, but increased strength and imperviousness to bladed weapons? That would be damn handy for someone in his line of work.

"Spike, get your tail back here!"

Spike blithely headed for the fish market, no doubt intending to fill his furry face with whatever he found there. Sinbad had to catch him before the pendant unwrapped itself and accompanied a horde of fish guts into the dog's stomach. If he was lucky, it would _only_ be fish guts Spike ate. Plus, he would much rather get the pendant now than wait for it to re-emerge later.

_It took three months to track down that dealer_, he inwardly grumbled. _An hour to haggle him down to a reasonable price, and then I had that pendant in my hand for all of three minutes! Stupid dog. Stupid dumb, greedy, way-too-fast dog – hey!_

A figure had stepped from behind a stall. Sinbad started to yell a warning, but Spike cannoned into the person first. Human and dog fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs, drool and swirling grey fabric. Spike yelped. Someone loosed an impressive string of curse words. Sinbad arrived just as Spike's head surfaced from the stranger's cloak. He grabbed the dog, felt for the pendant and found Spike's mouth empty.

"Damn it!"

"Hey, are you gonna help me up, or did I do something to tick you off and make you set your dog on me?"

"Sorry. Bad dog, Spike. Stay!"

Spike whined and sank to his belly. He didn't always follow commands, but something in Sinbad's tone made him comply. He watched with big, soulful eyes as Sinbad helped the stranger up.

"Are you okay?"

"Define 'okay'." The stranger fluffed the cloak, presumably patting down all limbs inside it. "I'm still in one piece, I think. All extremities attached where they should be."

"That's good to hear."

The stranger swept back the voluminous hood. Sinbad had already guessed she was female from her voice, but now he assessed the face that went with it – high cheekbones, an even higher ponytail and a sultry mouth set in a sardonic line. She was a looker. He couldn't tell much about the body under the cloak, but from the way the folds fell, he guessed she wasn't too bad in the department either.

"Hey," she said, gesturing. "My face is up here, chuckles."

His eyes snapped up. Her smile was part mocking, part amused, and her eyes danced with intelligence. Most women he met tended to be brainless or out for what they could get. Their smarts were hard-edged and harder-eyed, born from hard lives and hard knocks. Or maybe he was just biased. In his head, Marina's ghost hovered in the background, colouring his view of all other women so they came out lacking. This one, however … something about her reminded him of Marina.

She waved a hand in front of his face. "Hello?"

"Sorry."

"Two apologies. Not bad. I'd prefer dinner, though."

His eyes widened. "That's forward."

"Consider it reimbursement."

"For Spike knocking you over?"

"No." She held up a small glittery object. "For rescuing this before he ate it."

"Hey, thanks!" Sinbad held out his hand. "For a second there I thought I was gonna have to sift through dog poop to get it back."

She made to lay the pendant in his hand, but stopped. He raised his gaze once more. Something flashed in her eyes – almost like uncertainty – but was gone in an instant. His fingers closed around the metal and he pocketed the trinket before he lost it again.

The stranger folded her arms. "So?"

"So … what?"

"Men." She rolled her eyes. "Short memories when it suits them. Dinner? I'm new in town. Where's good to eat around here?"

"Not a clue," he replied cheerfully. "I'm new myself."

"A merchant?"

"Treasure hunter." It sounded so much better than 'pirate' or 'mercenary'.

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any interesting stories?"

"A couple."

She looked at him. Actually, it was more like she appraised him, like he appraised backstreet stalls for magical artefacts and life-saving relics that would handily save his life in the nick of time during his next adventure. He wasn't sure he liked that look.

"And some marketable skills, I'll bet."

He shrugged. "Some. Want to hear about them over dinner?"

"Your skills or your stories?"

"Both." He grinned wolfishly. The crew wouldn't miss him for a while. He could afford to kill a few hours with a pretty dame. Maybe this one would be better at driving away Marina's ghost than the rest.

Her eyebrow went even higher. "You're pretty forward, chuckles."

"Ah, so you think I'm pretty."

She rolled her eyes.

He offered his arm, which she pointedly ignored. "The name's Sinbad."

"Megara," she replied. "But you can call me Meg."

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><p><em><strong>Fin.<strong>_

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><p>.<p> 


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